Chapter 19
by ZannaTheDhampir
Summary: Six years after the Case of the Return of the Carnival that Never Left, the Caligari's, no, Penelope's Traveling Carnival, has returned to town. Emily finds herself searching for Unwin, so she can finally express all she needs to to him. One-shot, Emily and Unwin shipping, but nothing explicit or anything at all.. Based on The Manual of Detection by Jedediah Berry.


On Relationships

_According to the wishes of our overseer, this 5th addition of The Manual of Detection contains a 19th chapter._

_Relationships are essential for human beings, yet impractical. They facilitate extreme emotions and obscene amounts of trust that can be easily shattered. For these reasons, if one lets relationships enter their work and mangle up cases, the individual will most likely have to defer to Chapter 3, On Corpses._

Six years had passed since the Case of the Return of the Carnival that Never Left. Emily Doppel had made swift and monumental changes at the Agency since she had become the overseer. She still remained her air of secrecy, and refused to talk of her position to others, but she was not quite as aloof as some of the overseers as the past had been. While others were still prohibited from leaving their floor, every once in a while, Emily would leave her mahogany desk on the utmost floor of the building, leaving the little tin detective figurines to investigate the surface desk without her looming presence for a little while. Emily would take time to look in on the other floors, silently watching, with a smile on her face and a nod as underlings told her good day.

Now, of course, this was a detective agency. So every little oddity or a few extra seconds was noticed. And it was quite noticeable that when Emily went on her visits, she always seemed to linger on the fourteenth floor just a little longer than the others. Even though it was obvious that she was trying to conceal it, there was a look of longing in her eyes as she scanned the clerks typing away. After a few expended moments, she would continue on her visits, but that look did not return on any of the other floors.

On this one particularly rainy day, Emily had just finished her visits and was taking the long elevator ride back from the first floor up to her office. Nothing special had happened, but today she had felt a more painful tug on her heart than usual. The elevator dinged, and the door slid open, revealing a spacious, bright room with a wonderful view of the gray tinted, gloomy city. The green-shaded lamp shown down or her little figurines as then patrolled her desk top. Everything was obscenely neat, typewriter polished with nice stack of fresh paper beside it, reports on the left, waiting to be read. Emily of course could have someone type messages for her, but she liked the idea of typing them up herself. With a sigh, she sat down into her padded, high-back chair, and brushed a few strands of red hair back up into her messy bun, which was held together by bobby pins now, instead of a pencil. She picked up one of the little figurines, and a sad smile crept across her face. Look at how far she had come. From that little girl who would not be given a job to the overseer? That was a pretty big change. But still, Emily couldn't help but find herself searching for the one person that had trusted her, even when he had no reason to. That one person who had beieved in her. Charles Unwin. Of course she would be alerted immediately if he was spotted. She had made a point of that. No one expected Unwin to just up and leave like that after his first case as a detective. Emily sure as hell didn't. She expected him to go back to his job as a clerk, like he had been complaining about their whole case together. Sure, she had found it somewhat annoying, but still. It was cute how he was so determined to do his job and do it well. That's why she always took a few extra seconds lingering on the fourteenth floor. She knew that he wouldn't be there, but she couldn't help but look. She place the figurine down and picked up a manila envelope, opened it, and pulled out the report inside. She leafed through it, but didn't feel like reading through the petty crime it contained. She placed it back in the envelope carefully, and put it back in her to-read pile. She opened the large desk drawer and pulled a little latch hidden on the side, and the false bottom of the draw popped open, revealing a secret file copy that only Emily knew about. It was a copy of the Carnival that Never Left, typed by Emily herself. The original by Unwin was in the archives. She bit her lip as she once again began to read through the first and last report Unwin has submitted as a detective. There was also an edited copy, which a new clerk had taken care of, but Emily had made her copy from Unwin's unedited one.

As Emily continued her reading, a curious sounds drifted through the air, soft against the loud bombardment of rain against the window. As it reached Emily's ears, she wrinkled her nose and pushed her too-big-for-her-face glasses farther up on her nose. She set down the report and got up slowly, shaking. No. No, it couldn't. It couldn't be. Emily placed a hand against the ice cold window and peered across the town to the road to the north. Her eyes widened and smile made it's way across her face. It was a flickering smile, one that wanted to be hopeful, but one that knew that hope could hurt more than it could help. A frantic knock on door caused Emily to turn and briskly walk over and open it. A young boy nearly fell into the room, as he had been leaning on the door, panting, trying to catch his breath. He straightened up and held out an envelope.

"Message for you, ma'am!" He huffed. Emily smiled and the enthusiasm that the boy possessed.

"Thank you," she responded, taking the letter. The boy turned around and ran back to the elevator. Emily closed her door slowly and numbly walked to her chair. She flopped down and shakily opened the envelope.

_Dearest Overseer,_

_We would like to inform you of an event that has come to our attention that we believe you would like to know about. Just minuets ago, an unusual sound interrupted the steady patter of rain we are so used to. We sent out a scout as soon as this noise reached us, and they have just returned with the news that we were expecting._

_The Caligari's, strikeout, Penelope's Traveling Carnival has arrived._

_And Charles Unwin is with them._

That night, Emily found herself tossing late into the dark night. She finally fell into a fitful sleep, but deep enough to find herself wandering in the land of dreams. She was seated back in Unwin's detective office typing up a letter. Someone knocked, and a messenger walked in delivering new details for the case.

"They're difficult to decipher, I think," The messenger slurred.

"It's only to be expected," Emily responded. She paused, and then added, "The Devil's in the details, you know."

A door behind Emily, that led to what had been Unwin's office, but had not been there before closed, and a voice that she hadn't heard in years caused her to jerk, almost to the point that she almost felt herself coming out of the dream.

"And doubly in the bubbly."

"Unwin!" Emily took a step towards the man she had missed so much. A sudden though caused her to step back though. "Are…. Are you.."

"Using dream detection? Yes, sorry about that. I told myself I wouldn't, but when that door appeared…"

"It's fine.. So, you're back in town?" While the question was simple, it had deeper undertones. For how long? And, would he be staying?

"Yeah, for now, at least. I'm not sure about my timetable. Anyway, Emily, I've gotta leave you," Emily frowned, her too-big glasses amplifying her scowl. "Don't look at me like that. You'll see me tomorrow. Just remember. The Dream Typist. You've got that?"

"Mmmhmm.." Emily mumbled, the room starting to twist itself against the boundaries of physical limits.

"Dream Typist. Remember."

Unwin retreated through the door, just as the green-shade lamp on Emily's desk exploded in a burst of butterflies and the door became a gaping mouth of a lion.

With a gasp, Emily woke to reality, her face covered with bead of sweat. She threw off the covers, got up, went to the bathroom and downed a cup of water. She looked in the mirror at her face, with a mass of crazy red hair haloing it. She pulled out her ponytail, ran her fingers though the tangles, and then put it back up. She glanced over at her night table and saw that the clock read 4:20 am. There was no way she was going to get back to sleep, so she began getting dressed and ready to go. She would definitely need to stop and get a coffee before she reached her decision.

Ug. She was not going to be looking gorgeous today.

Emily, of course, took that day off. Now, not that anyone would realize that she had taken the day off. There was no one she needed to alert, and any work that she needed to do could be done some other day.

Emily was going to visit the Penelope's Traveling Carnival.

Emily sat at her kitchen counter, bouncing her leg, watching the clock. She was wearing an oversized purple sweater and dark jeans. Her red hair was styled into it's usual bun, but was a little messier than usual. When she had looked in the mirror, it was nice to see herself in a more relaxed atmosphere, not wearing a skirt and blouse, or a dress. It was still too early to go out, so Emily got up and poured herself a glass of milk, drank it, and then pulled her copy of the Manual of Detection out of her briefcase. True, she was not a detective, but she found the book fascinating. The leafed through it until 6:15, when she put the book back in her briefcase, picked up her going-out bag, and walked out the door. She stopped by a quaint little coffee shop, ordered herself a mocha, and spend time sitting in the shop, flipping though the paper, and sipping her drink. When she was done Emily continued along her way to the Carnival. She wondered if she should stop by at the Agency really quick, but decided against it. What good would it do? The rain had actually stopped for once, and a few rays of sunshine poked through the heavy clouds. So she continued her drive to where the Carnival was set up. Knowing the carnival would open at 9:00, and that she still had a lot of time, Emily stopped by a park, and decided to go for a little walk, since there was some sun out. She wandered aimlessly, and noticed that her stomach was turning. It wasn't until that moment that Emily realized how nervous she was, oh, but was she nervous. Extremely so. She hadn't seen, or hear from, Unwin in six years. But she had never stopped missing him.

She had never stopped loving him.

Oh, if she had know all those years ago that that elevator ride would be the last time she would see Unwin, she would have… well, Emily wasn't quite sure of what she would have done, but she would not have just stood there in silence, holding his hand.

And now, he was back. Who knows how long though. He could be gone tomorrow, for all she knew. Which terrified her.

Emily sat, leaning against a tree, staring up at the sky. Well. No use sitting here in a daze she thought, but then was overcome with fear when she felt her mind starting to go fuzzy. Months had passed since the last time she had fallen asleep without warning.

'Damn it, not now!' she thought, trying to stand, but finding no strength in her legs and only heaviness on her eyelids. 'Damn it...Unwin… I'll be there…..eventuall…'

Emily awoke feeling sleepier than she had before. She lay sprawled, her head at an awkward angle, slightly elevated by a tree root, still in the middle of the park. She sat up, blinked a few times, cracked her neck, and looked around. No one. She glanced at her watch and found that it was almost 10:00. She checked her pockets and was thankful her keys were still there. Who knows who could have come by while she was out. Her purse had been locked in the car, so she didn't have to worry about that. She stood, brushed off her back and pants, and headed for her car.

'I must be such a mess now,' she thought, sighing. She ran a hand over the top of her head and hoped her hard didn't look too bad. When she reached her car, she got in, looked at her face in the rearview mirror, scowled, decided there was nothing she could do, and started the car.

Soon enough, she was down at the Carnival. She parked, quite a distance away. It seemed like everyone had taken the day off to enjoy the sunshine and the bit of oddity that had come to their town. Emily hoped no one from the Agency would be there, but most likely, she would see someone. She always did. She began walking swiftly to the entrance of the carnival, and then paused, in wonder and awe. The excitement like that of a small child hit Emily, and she couldn't help but grin. She notices there were just as many adults by themselves at the carnival as there were children there. The people in the town didn't get this type of fun and excitement too often, so everyone was taking advantage of it and embracing it fully. Emily continued walking through the colorful pathways through the carts of the caravan. A clown on stilts leaned down at one point and gave her a light pink balloon, free of charge. Emily thanked him, lightly blushing, and continued walking around in wonder. She stopped at a food car and bough herself a cotton candy. The last time Emily had eaten cotton candy? She didn't even know. She smiled as she breathed in it's warm, sugary scent, and closed her eyes in bliss as the spun sugar melted on her tongue.

It was work time now, though. She needed to find Unwin. With cotton candy and balloon in hand, she once again began her wanderings, searching for the… the Dream… Dream something. Emily couldn't remember. But she wouldn't mind wandering until she bumped into where ever she needed to be. Taking another bite of her cotton candy, Emily continued working her way farther into the heart of the Carnival. After about a half an hour, a sign caught Emily's eye.

The Dream Typist

The sign was adorned with an open eye similar to that of the Agency, but the iris was blue, which was printed up in the header of a page sticking out of a typewriter. Emily knew as soon as she saw it that this was where Unwin would be. Now feeling awkwardly childish with the balloon and cotton candy, Emily took another bite of cotton candy, and then threw the third that was left in a trash can that was near by. She held on to the balloon though. There was a part of her that just couldn't let it go. Not yet.

With a deep breath, Emily pushed aside the deep maroon curtain and entered the dimly lit traveling carnival cart. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, and saw Unwin sitting at a little round table. All around the interior were strung little globes of light, very much like a fortune teller's cart, except instead of a crystal ball, an Agency typewriter was sitting in the middle of the table, with a stack of clean paper beside it. Unwin didn't look up from the typewriter when Emily entered.

"Have a seat," he said softly, and Emily sat, holding the balloon so almost touched the ceiling, but not quite. "I am the Dream Typist. I record the dreams of the people here at the carnival. For a price I can reveal a dream, I can create a dream, or a can change a dream." Unwin's voice seemed very monotone, and Emily was sure that he didn't talk like that with others. Emily noticed his fingers poised over the keys of the typewriter, ready to strike.

"You just can't get away from being a clerk, can you?"

Unwin looked up, and his and Emily's eyes finally clicked.

"And you just can't get away from you're feelings, can you?"

Emily blushed, but tried to hide it, questioning Unwin once again.

"How would you know?"

"Emily, I've been gone for six years." His voice softened. "You don't think I'd just let everyone I cared about slip out of my life like that, did you?" Emily narrowed her eyes.

"Well it seemed like you slipped a way to me," she huffed, and then what Unwin meant dawned on her. She gasped, then launched into an accusation, feeling extremely vulnerable and embarrassed, but refusing to show it. "You, you've been spying on me? You've been in my dreams, always keeping to the shadows? Unwin! How could you? How _dare_ you?"

"Well, I _am_ The Dream Typist, after all. My job is to record dreams. Sure, the people at the Carnival enjoy it, being able to know their subconscious thoughts, and people will pay for me to look at someone's dream that night."

"Do you not realize how violating that is? I… I thought better of you…" Emily's bottom lip quivered slightly, but then she though of how she had deceived Unwin the whole time she had worked under him. That did settle the score a little bit.

Unwin's gaze dropped. "I don't reveal anything that would hurt anyone, I'm not like that, Emily." Unwin's hands had left their poised position over the typewriter, and were now busy shuffling the stack of papers. Emily stood up, and she saw Unwin wince. She knew he though she was going to leave, but, contrary to his thought, she moved the chair so instead of sitting across from, she was sitting right next to Unwin. He glanced up at her, and then back down at his hands. After a moment of silence, Unwin spoke.

"I still have it, you know. I keep it in my pocket," he said, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a tiny figurine of a detective, hunched over with a surprised expression on his face. He smiled. "It really dose look like me, doesn't it?" Emily nodded and closed her hand around his, the one that wasn't still clutching the balloon string. "I can't come back, Emily. You of all people should know this. I've been out too long. I know things have changed. I know I've faded into a clerk legend." Unwin stared down at Emily's hand clutched around his hand, clutched around the figurine. "And I know now that my place is here, traveling, among the Carnival." Emily gave a small nod, and two big tears plopped down on her hand, causing Unwin to shift his gaze to her face. Her slightly puffy eyes seemed even more magnified than usual behind her big glasses. "Oh, Emily," he started, but didn't get to finished.

Emily leaned forward and pressed her lips against Unwin's. It was soft, it was gentle, and it was full of love, longing, forgiveness, and letting go. It wasn't short, it wasn't long, it was just the right length to convey all that the two needed to tell each other, but couldn't seem to find the words to do so.

When they broke, Emily's eyes still were watery, but the tears refused to fall, and a small, sad smile graced her lips.

"Thank you, Unwin," she whispered. "I'll never forget you."

"Nor I," he said, and his fist clenched a little tighter around the tin figurine.

They both knew this was goodbye, forever this time, both in waking and in sleep.

Emily let go of Unwin's hand, and with a glance back and a smile, she exited the caravan, and the dark maroon fabric once again concealed Unwin in a place where he was his new self. As she shielded her eyes to the glairing sunlight, Emily knew she could never change who Unwin was, or who he wanted to be, and even though a sadness had settled in her soul, there was breeziness in her air.

With a little smile, she unclenched her fist and finally let the pink balloon fly. She stretched her hand out, as it had been cramping from clutching so tightly onto the string of the balloon that had wanted so much so to be let go. Emily stood in front of the caravan as the balloon continued to shrink smaller and smaller as it floated farther away. She stood there until she could no longer see the speck. She stood there until she was sure that the balloon was somewhere high above where the clouds would come and cover the town when ever they returned.

And with that, with a smiled on her face, and a lightness in her heart, Emily let herself be swept away in the rush of feelings at the Carnival, allowing herself just a few more hours of pleasure before she would once again have to get back down to work.


End file.
